


The Swordsman's Apprentice

by starryvagabond



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 13:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3938866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryvagabond/pseuds/starryvagabond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of the rivalry that brought the Barton Brothers to their knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Swordsman's Apprentice

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr drabble based off the prompt: "Clint's first time shooting a bow and arrow". This is totally not canon and I apologise for any mistakes I made. Unbeta'd. Enjoy.

Clint Barton was everything he wanted to be. Everything that he _should_ have been.  
  
Jacques Duquesne watched the young teenager horsing around with his older brother after dinner one night. He was far gone in his bottle of whiskey by now, and for some reason Clint Barton was looking interesting to him.  
  
The Barton brothers were new to the circus and were still trying to find where exactly they fit in. Right now they cleaned up after and fed the animals, but in their free time they would take empty bottles and flick coins at them, laughing merrily whenever one broke.  
  
Jacques didn’t know their story. He knew the two boys had come from an orphanage and they were both wet behind the ears. Foolish little idiots, he thought, taking another swig of his alcohol while he watched them. After all the bottles were broken, the two then took to chasing each other around with sticks. “Look at them, acting like children,“ he harrumphed at Buck Chisholm, his friend and fellow performer.   
  
Buck just laughed a little, finishing the last of his coffee. “Lighten up, Jacq,” he said, shuffling a deck of cards. “Texas Hold ‘Em? Whoever wins gets a crack at mentoring those children.“   
  
Jacques scoffed. “I’m only interested in the younger one,” he said, his French accent annoyingly thick and slurred: a side effect of the alcohol swirling around his system.  
  
“Fine. You get the younger one, I get the older one. Texas Hold ‘Em, fifty bucks to start?”  
  
A gambling addiction was a hard thing to have.  
  
-  
  
“Are you ever going to let me try and do it myself?” Clint deadpanned, watching his mentor with boredom in his eyes. Jacques had been promising to teach him archery (since in one short year he had pretty much mastered every sword and knife known to man).  
  
“Patience, _mon chouchou_ ,” the man semi-growled at the boy, and Clint’s face lit up slightly towards the tent entrance when Buck and Clint’s older brother Barney came waltzing through it. “Barney…" he mumbled, and it was as he thought. Barney didn’t even look at him, just kept his eyes locked ahead.   
  
Buck cleared his throat at Clint, handing him a wooden bow and a quiver of arrows. “I hear you’ve got quite the aim with throwing knives. So I’m here to teach you archery. Barney!“ he said, looking back to the older Barton. “Show your brother what you can do.”  
  
Across the room, five archery targets rested on hay bales, set up for just this occasion. Jacques put a hand on Clint’s shoulder, more to ground himself if anything. Barney’s movements were calculated, and in less than a minute, he had lodged an arrow through the bullseye of every single target, a very smug look on his face.  
  
“Now, you saw your brother’s form. Use his example and shoot.” Buck knew it wasn’t the most orthodox way to teach the boy how to shoot, but it seemed to be the way that spoke loudest to him.  
  
Clint said nothing, taking his position and in half the time Barney had, he split all five of Barney’s arrows perfectly down the middle.  
  
The tent was dead silent for what seemed like minutes afterward. “My boy, you may just be the best marksman I’ve ever seen,“ Buck said with a laugh, going to clap Clint on the shoulder. “Let me teach you how to become the best marksman in the world.”  
  
Barney stormed out of the tent. This meant war.


End file.
